


Languishing Souls

by PeachykeenPie



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-07-12 02:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19938505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachykeenPie/pseuds/PeachykeenPie
Summary: Erik had always been able to read people. To play with them like a cat would a mouse. They were utterly predictable. Now, the niece of the new manager has him guessing. Smiling at things that would frighten others, and crying when she should be finding joy. In attempting to understand her, he may just find that his is not the only soul that has been languishing.





	1. Chapter 1

Erik looked down at the calm, social scene from a trapdoor in the ceiling. At the smiling carefree faces of his newest unsuspecting victims. 

The commotion of Don Juan Triumphant, and the flight of 'her' had been but two and a half months ago. To the public, it was an exciting scandal that totally encapsulated interest, but quickly died down after new gossip was spread through social circles. To those who had been there and witnessed it, well, not many had returned to the opera. Including 'her'. With determination, he tried to dispel her from his mind. 

Now, the opera was yet again transitioning into a different management. Another set of buffoons that wouldn't know how to properly run his opera unless they listened carefully to him, and obeyed his wishes. With light fingers, he felt his face. A false nose had been plastered on, and putty used in theater makeup was smothered on his cheekbones, so as not to look as much as a decaying death's head as he usually did. He was going to make his presence known, Not in a grandiose way. Something subtle that would get under their skin. A physical manifestation of the ghost that could appear and disappear in the blink of an eye.

Armand and Firman sat across the table from the two new buffoons they had found to get the opera off of their hands. On either side of them, older women sat, probably their wives, and next to them younger people whom he supposed were their sons and daughters. There was no open seat next to the managers both old and new where he could slip in. The closest seat was next to Firman's newest ingenue, and across from one of the new manager's daughters, who looked positively bored. 

With the flick of a switch, the lights in the room were momentarily doused. Among startled gasps and hushed murmurs, he nimbly dropped down into the room. His contraption only gave him a moment of darkness to find his way and take up his position, but that was more than enough. By the time the lights came back on, he was sitting in his chair, every inch looking as if he had always been there. when vision was restored to the room, jokes were passed around about what kind of state Armand and Firman were leaving the opera house in. Subtly, peering over, Erik could see the faces of the old managers pale. They bantered back with a witty response, but he could see the sweat that was already starting to bead on their brows. 

Erik took a moment to lean back in his chair. This subtle approach would take time. First for someone to notice that he was there, and then for the gossip to start. He cast a disinterested gaze across the people in the room. They were all members of high society. Women adorned in shimmering silks and jewels, and men swathed in crisp dress clothes.

He felt a pair of eyes on him. He had expected it to take longer than that to be noticed, and quickly turned to face who it was. The girl that sat across the table was surveying him. Her brown eyes seemed to watch him keenly. Erik knew that the makeup on his face could only hide so much. His body was still unnaturally lean, and his amber eyes dim in the bright room. When she kept staring, he stared back at her. Instead of looking away, she kept her eyes fixated on him. He was starting to become unnerved by her behavior. When caught staring, those in high society would look away, but she continued to study him. When she finally looked away, she looked around the room, as if looking too to see if anyone else had noticed him. When realizing that she was the only one to notice, she looked back at him. He expected her to turn to her neighbor, and to start gossiping about him, but she did nothing of the sort. 

He noticed that her hand had crept out of her lap, and now sat on the table. She slowly put it up just a bit, and opened her palm, before moving her hand back and forth. He was puzzled by what she was doing, before realizing what she was doing.

She was waving at him. 

Strange girl. 

The matronly woman that set next to her turned to look at her daughter. She blanched, at seeing her daughter engage in such a breach of decorum. She quickly swatted the girl's hand down before turning to him, most likely with the intent to apologize to him on her daughter's behalf, before she looked at him. He smirked as his plan began to work. The matron leaned over to get her husband's attention, then he leaned over to get his business partner's attention, and so on and so forth, until the room was buzzing with talk of him. Those new at the table, held both curious and apprehensive expressions, but those who knew him and what he was capable of, balked. Sufficiently happy that the new managers knew of him, and that the old were reminded not to forget about him when showing the rules and memorandum, he made his exist. 

With the assistance of another concealed lever, the lights were dimmed again, for longer this time, to both allow him to traverse the short walk to the hidden door, and to add a little more terror. When back safely in his original position, the lights were again restored. He watched as the new managers were escorted out of the room by Armand and Firman, most likely to get all the business out of the way so they could finally be rid of him. The rest of the room was buzzing with freight and excitement at his display. The matron from before was squawking loudly about the questionable morals of Armand and Firman for passing on such an ill run opera house to her husband for him to fix.

Honestly, people were so predictable. 

As he got up to leave, his gazed passed once again over the strange girl. Instead of gossiping about him, with others at the table, or agreeing with her mother, she sat silently. He watched as she tried to hold a look of disinterest, but couldn't help but let a smile blossom onto her face. 

Strange girl.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is insane, Roland. You can't possibly mean to say that you think that we should actually believe that this ghost exists."

"We saw him at the welcoming party."

"We saw someone pranking us at the welcoming party."

"You've heard the rumors though, Matthias. The stories."

"And we both agreed that they were sheer fabrications made by the management to draw in more public interest."

Roland, the seemingly older of the two, sighed. Erik took note that he would be the easiest of the two to persuade. 

Erik sat below the trap door that was situated underneath the desk in the managers office. It was the day after the welcoming diner, and the two new managers were now bickering over his added instructions in the memorandum. They had laughed over it last night when they had been shown it. Now, after finding a letter from their resident ghost sitting on their desk waiting for them to arrive this morning, they were much more somber. An intense debate about what to do next ensued. 

"Then perhaps we should keep up with it to draw more crowds in."

"Perhaps outwardly! But not to the point of giving over 20,000 francs every month! That's the equivalent of the sales of a full house!"

Then there was a gasp and the sound of the door opening. The uneven clicking of shoes stumbling on wood as someone came in, then quiet. Then there was a stale silence, and Erik cursed the limited viewing from his position underneath the desk, wishing to see who this new person was. Finally, the new person, cleared their throat, before speaking, "Monsieur Page, Uncle Roland. I didn't know you were in here."

There was more silence, before one of the men cleared their throats. "Think about this, Roland." There was the sharp sound of dress shoes walking towards the door. " Good day, Roland. Mademoiselle Chevalier." Then the sound of the door closing. 

There was a sigh and then a bit of a chuckle. "Listening at the door again, Ani?"

"Sorry Uncle, but no one will ever tell me anything unless I find out for myself."

"Aren't you suppose to be at the manor?"

More sounds of shoes on wood as the new comer came to stand beside her Uncle. "Well, I was. But one can only stick themselves with a sewing needle so many times before going insane."

While the two of them were bantering, he lifted the trap door, and with well practiced, lithe movements, Erik inserted a little letter into the man's pocket. He heard a sharp gasp from someone above and quickly retracted his hand. Had he been seen? "Are you alright, Ani?"

"Yes, I was just remembered that there was correspondence that I've been meaning to answer sitting on my dresser at the manor. It is nothing."

Erik let out a breath he had been holding. Of course, he was well practiced in the art of deception, how had he thought that a silly little girl could have seen his slight of hand. Another defeated sigh came from the man at the desk. "What do you think I should do Ani? Pretend like there is no ghost and bear the potential consequences, or give in to these demands with all the financial losses that will come with it?"

There was a brief silence before her answer. "Ghost's are not real, so there must be a real person behind all of this, and until you can figure out how to deal with them, you should tread lightly. Let it rest for the day, before grey settles in your hair. You know what a fuss aunt Lucille would make of that." What a strange way to think about it. Most of those who walked through the door of his opera house did not have the insight to think things through like that. He would have to keep a close eye on this niece that the manager seemed to listen to for advice. 

"I suppose you're right." Then the sound of a chair scooting across the floor, and feet as they walked toward the exit.

With long strides, Erik made his way to another alcove that would grant him a view of the office door as the people made their way out. The first was Roland. He was a tall man with a thick Brown mustache that matched a full head of hair, that carried himself with confidence. The next to emerge was the niece that he had to keep watch of. Her dull blonde hair was put in an ordinary bun. Her dress was a bland shade of dark blue and of a simple cut. On the whole, she seemed very unremarkable. He had held her to too high a standard. They turned down the hallway, away from him, so all he could see were their backs as they turned away from him. 

He was about to make his way back down to his home, when someone called out to the duo, causing them to turn around. Then Erik was able to see the face of the girl. He hissed as he saw her. She had been the one with the keen eyes that had stared at him from across the table last night! That made her comment in the office the second time in as many days that she had startled him. Erik paid little attention to the conversation, but when the person who had called out to them had walked away, she spoke up. "Uncle, is there something in your right pocket?" He watched as Roland, baffled, pulled the note out of his pocket.

That witch!  
That spy!  
That little enchantress!

She had seen him! She had seen him slip the note into her uncle's pocket and had not said a word until now! "I-I-Where did this come from?"

The girl laid a hand on her uncle's arm. "Don't worry about it, Uncle. Save it for tomorrow as well." 

Erik watched as Roland reluctantly put the letter back in his pocket, and the pair walked out.

Oh, he would certainly have to watch out for this girl now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story! Don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments to let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

For the next few days, the weather took a turn for the worse, and the city was shrouded in a heavy rain. As such, there were fewer visitors to the opera, but life inside of it was still bustling, uncaring of the world outside of its walls. rehearsals still went on, the orchestra still played, and the managers bickered about what to do in their little office.

The managers had wisely agreed that they should heed the ghost, and had so far followed his demands to the letter. Well, everything except for the 20,000 francs, but their payment was not due until the week next. 

There were only two things that Erik took issue with. One of which was mildly inconveniencing at worst, and the other frustrating at its best. 

The first were the incompetent police men that the managers had called in. They were instructed to find anything suspicious. The managers of course meant trapdoors that might be letting the ghost pass through walls, or make letters manifest on their desk and in their pockets. Of course, this being an opera house, there was a multitude of trapdoors used everyday. Ones used for scene changes, for actors to disappear through and come up from. The police men would find one of these commonly used trapdoors, and proudly report it, thinking that they had found one of the phantom's tricks, and then would promptly be yelled at for wasting the manager's time. 

Erik was unconcerned about the bumbling constables. Aside from periodically interrupting rehearsals and disheveling things as they went, they were no real threat to him. Many had tried before them to find him. He was confident in his architectural prowess. These men were looking for trapdoors that had been cut into the wall, something out of place or askew, but Erik had build the trapdoors at the same time as the rest of the opera house, and they were seamless. Unless one knew exactly where to look, his trapdoors looked like the rest of the walls. 

It had been the older manager's idea to bring them in, the one that was uncle to the strange girl. Through some eavesdropping through the trapdoors in the floor of the office, Erik learned it had been the girl, apparently Anima by name, that convinced her uncles to follow his demands.

And that was his second problem.

Because of the inclement weather, those in high society, including that girl, were taken to staying in doors, and not traveling out unless absolutely necessary. On all accounts, Erik should have been relived. The pestering girl was out of sight and away from his tricks which she was seemingly able to see right through. But she would be back eventually, back to dismantle his secrets, and he could not allow that. It was frustrating to have to sit and wait her return. Erik didn't like to sit on problems, he liked to hash at them right away. 

With a resigned sigh, Erik left the rafters, where he had been entertaining himself by watching a duo of police men attempt to search the orchestra pit during the middle of practice, much to the annoyance of the musical director. Erik made his way down to the chapel, where hardly anyone ever went. He withdrew a match from the folds of his cloak and lit a candle. 

After 'she' had left, Erik took to lighting a candle for her. True, she was not among the blessed dead, but she was not here with him now, and never would again, and might as well be dead to him. He felt like he should mourn her flight more than he now was. True when she had first gone, he felt like he would die of a broken heart. He had sat in his coffin and awaited death, but it would not come. Instead, the time seemed to drag on. Finally, he resigned himself to the fact that life still had him in his clutches. The Daroga had postulated that perhaps that was a passing thing, that his heart would mend with time. Erik had scoffed at him. The image of Christine always burned fresh in his mind, but the months seemed to slowly but surely wash away the image of her from his mind, like the sea beats against a cliff and weathered it. Erik became appalled at himself for allowing the memory of his beloved pupil, the only woman he would ever love, to fade. Now, everyday he made a point to come and light a candle for her, to make sure her memory remained. Erik spent some time mulling over his lost love before making his way home.

Upon coming to the shore where his boat was moored, he was annoyed to see Nadir standing there, evidently waiting for his return. Erik turned to go around the long way, but he had evidently been spotted, as the Daroga called out to him and ran to catch up to him before Erik could go very far. "Erik! Erik get back here! I see you!"

With a resigned sigh, he turned and faced the old man. Truth be told, Erik wasn't as annoyed by the man as he usually claimed to be. He could quite enjoy his company, except for when he pestered Erik about his actions. Judging by the look of irritation on the man's face, that was his goal in today's visit. He stopped his long strides so the man could catch up. "Ah, Daroga. I didn't see you there."

The man made a disgruntled noise while he closed the distance between them. "You think you might have a bit more regard for the man that helped to save your life."

Erik feigned a hurt look as the two began the walk back to the boat. "And give up taunting you? Out of the question. It's my favorite part of the week!" In response, Nadir merely rolled his eyes. "And what brings you to my little corner of the world today, Daroga?"

"Am I not allowed to visit a friend without being accused of having an ulterior motive?"

"No. Not with your proclivity for meddling with my affairs."

Nadir scrunched his nose in distain. "Always so prickly."

The rest of the journey was passed in silence. When they had reached the other shore, and had entered his house on the other side of the lake Erik brought up Nadir's visit again. "I still know that you have some reason for bugging me today. Out with it."

"MMmm, it can wait until after a nice cup of tea." Without waiting to be asked in, Nadir made his way to the kitchen and to the cabin with the exotic tea. 

"You know that tea is expensive, Daroga. I do not appreciate you inviting yourself to using the whole tin each time you come here." Nadir waved a dismiss hand at Erik as he readied his tea. While his friend did so, Erik readied some tea cups and saucers. 

When the tea was ready, they moved to the living room, each sitting in opposite armchairs. Nadir calmly sipped his tea, while Erik's patience began to wane. "Well?"

Nadir relished another sip of tea, and making Erik wait some more, before setting his cup down. "Your little stunt earlier concerning the addition of pepper to many of the police men's hats has not gone unnoticed." Erik smirked a little to himself. The cacophony they had caused when they doffed their caps had been entertaining. "However, I was mostly wondering what you think of the new managers."

"Just as maladaptive as the old ones. They have no sense of art or music, although, they have been a bit more apt to give into my requests."

Nadir nodded. "Yes I did find that rather odd. It was the older of the two, Monsieur Roland I believe, that had the idea."

Erik made a disinterested sound in his throat. This was not news to him. With the utmost nonchalance, he responded, "Have you met his niece?"

Nadir's brows arched in surprise. "Mademoiselle Chevalier? Yes. She is a very sweet girl. Talking to her wa-" Suddenly he stopped, and eyed Erik suspiciously. "Why this interest in her. Albeit as the manager's ward she is in the opera often, but you ought to have no reason to be spying on her."

Erik waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing. I realize that her Uncle hold's her opinion in high regard. I was simply wondering what sort of person she might be."

Nadir eyed his friend suspiciously. "As I said before, she seems to me to be a very sweet girl. Very inquisitive as well, but not in a way that was obtrusive. When I was talking with her this morning she mention-"

"She was here this morning?"

"Well- well yes. She remarked upon how happy she was that her uncle had let her come with him today. Lamenting that the weather had been so poor lately that she could not go outside."

"Did she say what she was doing here?"

"Just that she was visiting. She expressed an interest in taking in the view of the stage from the boxes."

Before his friend had even finished talking, Erik was up out of his chair like a shot and out of the house. He heard Nadir yell at him for his sudden departure, but ignored it. The last two times the girl had been here, she had seen through his plans, he needed to make sure it didn't happen again. 

He scurried through passageways and upstairs until he came to the boxes on the grand tier. He took a moment to think of which box she might be in. Erik didn't have to think long, as the sound of shuffling fabric came from Box 5.

His Box.

He slipped through the passages and into one of the marble columns on the sides of the box. With the stealth of a prowling cat, he slid out of the marble and into the room, taking refuge in a darkened corner. The girl was indeed in his box! She sat, curled up the lone seat in the most unladylike fashion, her legs swung over the arm of the chair, feet swinging back and forth. She was deeply immersed in a book, thankfully so engrossed that she did not notice his entrance. Erik snarled inwardly. He had been so worried, for what? The girl was innocently reading a book, even if she was doing so in his own private box. 

"Anima! …. Anima, It's time to go home!" The voice of the older man came from the hallway. Apparently Erik was not the only one looking for this singular girl.

The girl in question frowned heavily at the door, before putting her bookmark in to mark her place. She slowly stood up and stretched a bit, before arranging her skirts which had become disheveled in her unmannerly posture in the chair. The girl let out a sigh. "Goodnight, Box 5." She addressed the room while heading to the door. "Goodnight, Erik."

The girl's hand had hardly brushed the knob of the door handle before Erik yanked her back, hand around her throat. "How do you know Erik's name?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Huck, ahaha, gah." The smaller girl struggled against Erik, as she tried to escape his grasp. Erik put a hand over her mouth to silence her. He listened intently for the man in the hallway to pass by, not wanting to be interrupted. When all was clear, he looked down at the girl and quietly hissed, "I will remove my hand, and you will not scream. When I do so you will answer my question, then perhaps I will let you go. Am I clear?" The girl's eyes darted around, seeming to try and find someway out. Eventually, she nodded her head and gave him her attention. "Good, now, how do you know Erik's name?" He removed the hand on her mouth, and slightly released his hold on her throat. 

The girl tried to take in several deep breath, but a nasty cough quickly forced the air out of her lungs again. Through clenched teeth and harsh coughs she muttered, "Didn- huu - did no- COUGH - not know- haa haa haa - same."

"What do you mean you did not know? Just a few moments ago you said his name. What is the same? My patience is wearing thin. Out with it!" 

Before he could continue interrogating the girl, the door to the box flung open. In his furry, Erik had forgotten to check if the door to the box was locked. Reflexively, he let go of the girl, who crumpled on the floor, and dashed to make an exit in the marble column. "Erik, what on earth have you done to the poor girl!"

Before he had gone very far, Erik turned to see it was only the Daroga. He gave a hiss of annoyance under his breath, and quickly closed the door. "What are you doing here Daroga?"

"Making sure you were not about to do anything rash when you suddenly left in such a hurry. Unfortunately, I was too late." Nadir was kneeling on the ground next to the girl. Although she had been released, she wasn't trying to run away. She was just lying on the ground, trying to breath. Erik knew his strength well, and while he had certainly applied pressure, he had not done so enough to crush the girl's windpipe entirely, yet she acted like she was on the verge of death. 

Erik scoffed, perhaps she was trying to seem worse than she was so Erik would feel pity and let her go. Of course, he wouldn't until she had told him everything that she knew about him. And if she knew too much, well, he would just have to hear how much she knew before he could decide if she would be allowed out of the box alive. "The more time drags on the less I am inclined to let the girl out of the box alive."

"Erik! Whatever minor transgression this girl has caused to the opera can hardly befit the punishment you are giving her."

"On the contrary, dear Daroga, she has somehow endeavored to learn my name." Nadir's eyes widen in surprise. He understood the amount of privacy Erik placed on anything that pertained to himself. Erik could see the cogwheels turning in his friends mind, of a way to try and pacify him, but he could see the hope slowly drain from his face. "Now out with it girl, you had best tell us everything you know."

By now, the girl had recovered enough to not be hacking her lungs out, but she was still taking shallow breaths. She looked up at Erik, her face pale, bruises subtly starting to form. She stared up at him, eyes wide. Erik felt startled as her pale eyes looked up at him. Her eyes showed that she was startled, and vaguely afraid of him. They did not hold the terror that most of him victim had upon being strangled, true, some semblance of terror was held within them, but not enough mask the curiosity that resided there was well. "I have been coming to the opera with my uncle for a few days. Sometimes I would sit in the office and read while he worked, sometime I would go and watch the rehearsals, and sometimes I would wander around the opera and explore. I started to notice things, things that were slightly out of place. I paid attention to them, and realized that the 'opera ghost' was more than a silly superstition and some joke. I put together that there must be some person using the legend of the ghost to disguise what he would be doing. I thought that this person was using the 'opera ghost' superstition to mask his activities. I didn't think that the person that was trying to extort money, among other things, would actually be cavorting about as the ghost."

"How do you know that they are the same person?"

"I didn't, until you attacked me." Erik looked at her quizzically. "You attacked me, and you are getting more irritated after I said that. The only reason I see for you doing so is that I hit the nail on the head, so to speak."

Erik let out an irritated sigh. He had betrayed himself by trying to defend himself. "That wasn't the original question. How do you know Erik's name?"

'Monsieur Khan." Erik looked at his friend accusatorily. Nadir quickly shook his head and put up his hands in defense. "He didn't do so intentionally. I talked to him, and whenever something went wrong he angrily mutters your name under his breath before quickly leaving. I thought before you attacked me that it was just the name of the legendary ghost, not of the actual person haunting the opera house." 

The box was quiet momentarily, before Nadir burst out laughing. "Do I? Oh, never realized that I did!"

"Quiet your cackling, Daroga. You sound like a castrated hyena." Erik narrowed his gaze on the girl. "Is that all you know?"

"For certain? Yes. Everything else I have is speculation."

Erik considered the girl for a moment. She knew quite a bit, much more than he was comfortable with, and who knows what else she could probably guess at in her 'speculations'. He looked down at her. There was so much damage she could do, still there was potential in her. She had been able to see eerily easily through his defenses. He could turn that into an advantage for himself. Through her, he could tell what weaknesses in his defenses needed strengthening. Why, with a little bit of blackmail and threatening, whos to say that he couldn't use her to carry out some activities that the Daroga morally objected to, and that would put himself in too much danger, such as delivering letters to the managers. "After careful consideration, I have decided to let you leave. But hear this," he bent down next to the girl, "if you so much as breath a word of this meeting to anyone, there will be heavy consequences. Understood?" The girl vigorously nodded her head. "Good." With that he stood up, and retreated through the marble column. From that position, he could not see, but could hear what was happening in the box. 

"Are you alright?"

"For the most part, yes. Though I fear-" There was a sharp intake of breath. Evidently, the girl had discovered her new bruises.

"I'm sorry for Erik, Mademoiselle Chevalier. I wish I could say he is not usually like this, but... he is."

"I believe I brought that upon myself. I am always getting into trouble at home for being too inquisitive. At this point, I am most worried about having to explain these bruises. Once my aunt and uncle see these, I'll never be allowed in the opera again! I left my scarf in uncle's office, I just need to get it without him seeing me."

"I would be happy to escort you down there and do my best to help no one see you, but, I am surprised that you are worried about not being able to come back after your confrontation with Erik."

"The alternative is staying at home all day, which I would just about die if it came to that."

"And you would rather face a madman like Erik than stay at home!?"

"With all due respect, Monsieur Khan, you've never met my aunt!"

All Erik could hear after that was the Daroga chuckling, the creak of the door, and the soft tread of footsteps as they walked away. Erik, while annoyed at the turn of events that the day had taken, was content. He could easily find a way to manipulate the girl into working for him. With that, he stalked back home, the girl, despite her words, probably wouldn't return for several days, he had time enough to do some planning.


	5. Chapter 5

"Monsieur, to me, you are no more dangerous than the passing storm."

Erik stared down at the girl with confusion. Of all the things that she could have said, and of all the horrible things he had been likened to in his many years, he had never once been called as dangerous as a drizzle of rain.

Earlier in the day Erik, had been stalking the entrance of the opera house, waiting for workers to arrive, and contrary to what had Erik thought would happen, the girl did come back the next day. He had watched with surprise as she walked through the doors of the opera house the next morning with her uncle, wearing a dress with a high neck that covered the bruises that had been given to her a day before. Erik had hoped to have some time to find something to blackmail her with, some unsavory secret that all nobles inevitably had that they would like to keep the rest of the world from knowing. However, she would not allow him the time to find it. He would have to think of something quickly that would keep the girl from prattling on to the world about him, and to force her into helping him perform more daring acts that might put himself in danger. He had threatened the girl's life yesterday, but he would like to have some more assurance against her.

With nothing much to go on, he had followed the girl until she found herself alone in a passageway that contained one of his trick doors. He had expected this to take a while as well. He assumed that she wouldn't want to be alone after yesterday, but after walking with her uncle to his office and leaving her soaked coat with him, she set out to exploring the opera on her own. She didn't seem to be trying to stay in heavily populated areas, nor did she try to avoid people all together. She went about wandering the opera house, as if the events of the day before had never taken place. While it made it easy for Erik to waylay the girl, it set him on edge. The prey that he was stalking never acted like this. 

Erik quickly pulled her into the narrow corridor, and closed the door. It was dark, and without an escape route for the girl. Because of the dark, the girl seemed at a loss for once. She spun around in a circle, before seeming to notice his eyes. "Your eyes are very bright." Erik didn't comment. "They're almost gold. Can you see in the dark?"

"Silence." The girl sighed but obeyed. "You've returned rather quickly, haven't you?"

Anima shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Most people aren't too keen to come back to the den of a madman who could easily kill them." 

"Is that what this is about, threatening me? You did that yesterday, and I said I wouldn't tell anyone." The girl's face suddenly perked up. "Ahh, and that's why you're annoyed that I've come back so quickly, because you haven't found something to blackmail me with. I'm correct aren't I?"

Erik snarled at her. "Stop doing that!"

"What? Being correct, or annoying you?"

"If you know what's good for you, both." The girl opened her mouth to say something else, but thought better of it and stayed silent. "Good. Now, if you want to continue moving about my opera house in relative safety, you will find that I have some conditions for you. The first, as you already know, is not to tell anyone of anything about me that you may know. This includes, any passageways you may find. The second is that you will help me carry out my plans in anyway I ask of you, with no questions asked or hesitations."

"Let me guess, and if I refuse I may not live to see the sun tomorrow."

"My dear girl, you would not even make it out of this corridor."

The girl sighed again. "I was trying to be sarcastic about how dramatic you were being, but apparently that didn't get through to you." She shook her head. "Of course I'll help you."

Erik stared back at the girl. "You would willingly help someone who is trying to extort money out of your uncle's business?"

"When you say it like that, you make me sound so treacherous. No, its more for the reason for that its just something to do."

"You consider working with a killer 'just something to do'?". 

"Monsieur, to me, you are no more dangerous than the passing storm."

Erik stared down at the girl with confusion. Of all the things that she could have said, and of all the horrible things he had been likened to in his many years, he had never once been called as dangerous as a drizzle of rain. He quickly shoved her back into the corridor before she could say anything else that unnerved him. With his skills in ventriloquy , he whispered in her ear just softly enough so only she could hear in case someone were to pass by, "You will find in Box 5, a letter addressed to the managers, be sure it gets to them in a way that won't implicate you."

"Interesting, I've never met a ventriloquist before." The girl stood still for a moment, listening for a reply. When she received none, she began walking in the direction of Box 5.


End file.
